The Secrets No One Tells Me
by TheyCallMeSnow
Summary: When no one will tell James what the CRAP is going on with the Head Girl. Next Generation James Sirius Potter/ OC :) Read and Review, please:)
1. Chapter 1: Wait—Who Are You Again?

**A/N: Hey guys, this is my first fanfiction, so please…be kind**** Also, if you have any ideas, or grammar corrections, PM me! :D Happy Friday!**

**3/ Snow White**

**DISCLAIMER: If I owned Harry Potter, there would be a series about the next gen. So no, only the plot is mine. **

Chapter One

Here I was. About to board the Hogwarts Express, ride to Hogwarts, and start my Seventh year. And I was terrified. I reassured myself repeatedly that I could handle whatever came my way. Nothing could stop me. Except…James Sirius Potter. He was the only problem I had. He had bullied me constantly since third year, which I would never fully understand. But he did. And it was painfully frustrating. Sighing heavily, I braided back my thick, dark brown hair. As I basked in the glory of Platform 9 ¾, my eyes scanned the surrounding are for red or silvery blonde hair. Then I saw them.

"Dominique!" I yelled, "Rose!" They didn't turn around.

_ Great, _I thought, _it's come to this. _

"OI! WEASLEY!" That sure got their attention. And 20 others' that I didn't want. I swear, a thousand red heads turned in my direction, along with the occasional blonde or black head. It was overwhelming. The shades varied, but they all definitely had the trademark Weasley hair. Rose and Dom headed over in my direction, and I hugged them.

"I haven't seen you for two months!" Rose squealed, right as Dominique yelled:

"You started wearing makeup! Oh my gosh, did you cut your hair!" I rolled my eyes at her comments as I took out my braid so that I could show her my newly tamed locks. I wasn't exactly what you would call a girly-girl, but I wasn't the kind of girl who didn't care. I did care. My main problem was that I was just too lazy to bother doing my makeup or hair. I liked to sleep more then I cared. But over the summer, I had really made an effort to change that. I had also had my aunt, who worked at a muggle hair salon, thin out my hair (which resembled what everyone told me Rose's mom, Hermione's hair looked like when she was my age) so that it would be less frizzy. That was one of the main reasons that James Potter and Fred Weasley teased me. My hair was the main ammo that they had.

"So," I began, "how were your summers?"

"Absolutely horrid!" Dom whined, "The only boy within a 20 mile radius that I wasn't related to was Scorpious, and you and I both know that Rose has dibs on him. And he's too young." She pouted.

I snickered at her comment; whether or not she wanted to admit it, we all knew that Scorpious and Rose were going to get together sometime this year. I had 20 Galleons on the Christmas Holidays. I mean, come on, it doesn't get much more romantic then mistle-toe and hot chocolate!

Rose rolled her eyes at us and hit Dom on the arm, hard; but I could tell by the dreamy look in her eyes and the slight blush creeping onto her cheeks that Rose subconsciously knew we were right.

When I finally got a good look at the both of them, I wasn't surprised to see Prefect badges on both of their robes. Rose, a year younger then Dom and I, was a Prefect last year, in her fifth year, as well, so it wasn't much of a shock. Dominique had also been a Prefect last year, although she didn't make as big of a deal about it as Rose did. That was their main difference; although normally Dominique was the attention-hungry one, when it came to school work, she preferred to be quiet about it. Rose, however, was just like her mother. Her parents had both been Prefects, and, if they had completed their seventh year, her mom had been a shoe-in for Head Girl.

Speaking of Head Girl…guess who our year's is? Yep, yours truly, Joyce Stevenson. Yay. You can see my excitement. I only hope that the Head Boy is agreeable. Great. I probably just jinxed myself right there. _Sigh._

"So, Rosie Posie, you hoping you'll get rounds with Scorpious? I can arrange it." I said as I waggled my eyebrows. Scorpious was in Slytherin, along with Albus Potter, and the two had been best friends since first year. Mr. Potter wasn't even fazed; it was almost like he knew it was coming.

As Rose blushed furiously, we all laughed and walked back over to where their families were so that I could say hello. The Weasley and Potter clan were some of my favorite people on this planet. Mr. and Mrs. Potter, despite their son's horrific and prat-like behavior, were very fun people. Mrs. Potter had taken a particular liking to me, although I didn't know quite why. She just was always talking with me, saying that she hoped Lily grew up to be just like me. Another thing that I didn't understand. I was painfully awkward, specifically around boys my age, and half the things that came out of my mouth were rude and sarcastic. My parents, muggles as they were, were always telling me that I needed to set a better example for the people around me. Specifically, my three younger brothers and little sister. But I like to think that I was a good older sibling; protective, fun, mischievous.

My sister Savannah, who was a fifth year Gryffindor (turns out, all my siblings so far to turn 11 have been magical, I have a Ravenclaw brother named Reese in third year, and my younger brothers are 10 and 7, but have both showed signs of magic so far,) turned out ok, didn't she? I'm always _try_ to be there for her. I love having a big family; there's always someone who is there for you. My younger sister and I had a particularly good relationship, which basically means that we both steal each other's clothes since we are the same size and talking about guys and their stupidity with each other. She once hexed James Potter when she was a second year because he told me I was going to die alone, and that was probably the most proud of her I've ever been. Potter was speechless. It was hilarious, and all that anyone talked about for the next three months. At that point in fourth year, Potter had a huge reputation: _obnoxious_, prankster, yet somehow popular. All the girls wanted him, and it started getting _really_ bad in fifth year. Oh, my. I think he had a girlfriend every other week. It was painful.

Not that I _cared _about who he dated. Ok, I'll admit it, but just this once: Potter is fit. _Very_ fit. But forget that I said that.

"Hey Ginny!" I said as we came up to the giant crowd of gingers.

When she saw me, her smile widened. "Joycie!" she said, ruffling my hair. "How was your summer, hun?" Ginny was like a secondary mother to me. I liked to call her my Wizarding World Mom, and whenever I did she would reply with a 'you know it!' Everyone thought it was funny that we were so close considering my relationship with her son.

"I'm great, Mum, and so was my summer. How was yours? You and Mr.P go on _vacation_?" I said as I waggled my eyebrows at her.

She rolled her eyes at me, and I could see that she was thinking of a rebuttal, but right as she was about to speak, her son strutted up. "Ah…so, mom, who's your…friend?" he asked. Yeah. He didn't recognize me. Which made no sense. I mean, I hadn't change that much. I was still an entire foot shorter than him, still had the same striking eyes, (which, in my opinion, are my best feature) still extremely sight-impaired (although, I had gotten muggle contacts over the summer). The only thing I'd changed was my hair and makeup.

Ginny sensed the awkwardness, saying: "No one, James. Why don't you go and talk to Fred and Uncle George over _there_." She stressed, hoping he would leave. No such luck.

"Seriously, mom, who is she?" he persisted.

She looked at me, then smirked. Oh no. "I'm going to go talk to Harry, James. Why don't you get to know my _friend_ a little better?"

_Oh crap,_ I thought,_ am I wearing my Head Girl badge? I don't want him to know who I am because of it. _I nonchalantly checked my chest. _Yes! Go forgetfulness!_ It wasn't there. I was safe. For now.

"So…" James said, breaking the awkward silence that was thicker than melted Chocolate Frogs, "what's your name?"

I raised an eyebrow at him, "If I told you, you great oaf, it would take all the fun out of it, wouldn't it?" I said, turning on my sarcasm, "And, as invigorating as this inconsequential conversation is, I would prefer to get onto the train, so for now, you can call me…" I racked my brain for the most random name I could find, then smirked as I said, "Sara."

His eyes widened at that. That was what he thought Savannah was named until sixth year. Why, I do not know. But he did. I'm sure that he remembered. It was extremely embarrassing for him. I had laughed at him, along with everyone else. It was a good day…

"I-I-I, you…who? W-What…" he sputtered. It was comical, but I held my smirk and my laughter.

"See you, Potter."

As I walked away, I heard him yell: "I didn't tell you my name!"

Smirking, I hopped on the train, in search of Rose and Dominique.

**Review and...I'll love you forever! :D**


	2. Chapter 2: Too Much Sexual Tension, Fred

**A/N: Hey guys! So…I would just like to thank everyone who favorited/ alerted! You guys are the reason I'm still writing! One of my good friends is going to start co-writing this with me, so I'd like to thank her as well! **

**3/ Snow **

**Disclaimer: Nope…not mine…I wish!**

Chapter Two

I could barely contain my laughter. Potter's antics were just too hilarious. I could hear him following me, throughout the train, (which was, in reality, quite disturbing) until he finally gave up, (I'd always been good at Hide-and-Seek,) and went to sit with his annoying friends. When I found Rose and Dominique, I also found one of my other best friends, Arwen Lance. Her parents were obsessed with a muggle book called "The Lord of the Rings," which was funny considering that they were purebloods, and so they named her after an elf, I think…I'd never read the books, even though my dad was a big fan. But Arwen's parents were their own level of obsessed. It was pretty ridiculous, actually. But Arwen seemed to like her name, and I thought it was beautiful, so we didn't talk about it much. "Arwen, dear, how are you?" I asked her, and I watched a huge smile grace her face. She was probably the tannest out of all of us, (Rose and I were both painfully pale, although I was considerably paler than her, and Dom was fairly tan, thanks to her veela charm) and she had long, brown hair that had soft curls in it, so it was kind of ironic that she was named after an elf that had the same hair as her. Her eyes were a deep blue, whereas mine were light. I'd always loved her eyes. She was tall and regal-looking, and made me look like, well, a dwarf.

"Hey, Joyce! My summer was great! I met this boy…he goes to Durmstrang, and…I really like him, Joyce. That's what we were just talking about. And I-"

I cut her off, "Ohmigosh, spill!" I said, "and you better have some_ actual_ information!"

"Ok," she began, "so, his eyes, they're so pretty: like the color of a melted Chocolate Cauldron, and his hair is red, but not like Fred Wea-"

"Talking about me, Lance?" Speak of the Devil. Fred Weasley and –get this- James Potter were standing in the doorway of our compartment.

"In your dreams, Weasley," Arwen said, a sour expression on her face. Fred Weasley was horrid- a total twat. But he was fit. He had his father's clear blue eyes and the trademark Weasley hair color. He loved tormenting Arwen. I thought he fancied her.

"How did you know that you've been in my dreams? Granted, you were wearing a lot less-" he was cut off when Arwen kicked him in the shin. "Makeup!" he protested, "you were wearing a lot less makeup!" we all rolled our eyes. Fred Weasley was ridiculous.

"Sara," Potter said to me. Oh crap. I hadn't told Dom, Arwen, or Rose that he didn't recognize me.

"Why are you calling Jo-" Dominique started talking, but Rose clamped her hand over Dom's mouth. Thank heavens for Rose's perceptiveness.

"What, Potter?" I asked.

"Why are you sitting with my cousins? I thought you were new or something." Dang, he was _thick._ Then, "Rose, where's Joyce? I haven't seen her yet. I have to have someone to…" seeing Rose, Dom, and Arwen's angry faces, he added, "talk to."

"Yeah, I know where she is," Rose replied.

"Where?" Potter asked, hope on his face.

"Not telling."

"Tell me."

"No."

"Please?"

"Never."

"Why?"

"Because."

"Ugh!" I exclaimed. "I'm going to get something from the trolley. Good bye."

I walked out of the compartment, ignoring the looks on everyone in the compartment's faces. I walked down the hallway, muttering curse words under my breath. Stupid James Potter, too think to recognize me. I couldn't decide if it was a good thing or not. I mean, if he didn't know who I was, maybe he wouldn't torment me. Maybe…the slight chance still made me happy, though. I was so absorbed in my thoughts that I didn't notice someone following me. A very undesirable someone. Named James Potter. Yay. This was the _best _day ever.

"Sara!" I hear him call. Ignorance is bliss. I would just pretend he wasn't there and he'd go away.

But after about ten minutes of him following me around like a barmy git, I finally broke. "What, Potter? What in the good name of the Ninth Doctor is the matter ?" I said angrily.

"The Ninth Doctor?" he asked, eyebrow raised, "who in the world is the Ninth Doctor?"

Exasperated, I sighed, muttering, "Doctor Who reference." I kept walking down the hall, and for some reason, Potter had the audacity to follow me.

"Tell me your name," he started talking again. Heh. Prat thought I was going to tell him. LIES!

"If you weren't so thick, Potter, you would've connected the dots a long time ago. I don't look that much different." Oh gosh. I hoped I didn't just give it away…

"What dots?" nope. I'm safe. His intelligence was lacking.

"You know, Potter, I really think that I might need to donate some brain cells for you…do you know where the nearest Hospital is? Although, I doubt they'll have an instrument sharp enough to cut through your _thick skull._"

"You know," he said, pondering my words, "I almost thought you were Stevens for a moment. You have the same eye and hair color," Oh. Great. So he had figured it out. The stupidity was just an act. Yay. "but then I realized that you were too witty and intelligent. Two things that Stevens sure isn't. So tell me, _Sara,_ how do you know my cousins?"

He advanced towards me.

I was up against the wall.

Literally.

Great. He had me up against a wall. And I was trapped.

**So yeah, I know its short, but I went skiing today with my Dad, and so I didn't have much time, but… yeah:)**

**Review and…Fred will spare your dorm room from his dung bombs!**


	3. Chapter 3: The Already Almost Kiss

**A/N: So. It seems we meet again. **

**Hey. It's Snow. My friend, who we are just going to call Rose Red (props to anyone who gets the connection) is going to start officially co-writing this with me now. Just thought I'd let you all know. **

**In reply to a review I just received by **_**AccioNevilleLongbottom,**_** (love the name, by the way) asking me why I didn't just put the girls in Ravenclaw so they wouldn't be bullied in the Common Room, my reason is this: I like FanFictions best when the two love interests are in the same house, because then they have more encounters, sit together at meals, (since all the Weasleys/Potters sit together) and they have a lot of the same classes. **

**Thanks also to **_**PopiAle**_** and **_**xXallegedangelXx **_**for reviewing last chapter. **

**You guys all ROCK! **

**Lastly, I have a question for you all: would you rather me post shorter chapters about every other day, or longer chapters about every four or five days?**

**Have a (as the 9th Doctor would say) **_**fantastic**_** day**

**3/ Snow and Rose**

**Disclaimer: If only it was mine… **

Chapter Three

"What do you want, Potter?" I say, but even I can feel the desperation creeping into my voice. I don't know why I'm scared, exactly, but I am. When he finally figures it out-that is, unless has already and is just trying to make me feel safe somehow- what will he do? He's been making my life tortuous for the past six years, there's no way that he would stop now.

He knows my weaknesses, he knows…everything. He's somehow gathered every piece of information about me that he could ever want. I don't know how. I started keeping a diary in third year, but that only lets me read it. No one else. Unless Potter is a powerful curse breaker…

That's it. That there is the answer to the question I've been asking for years. Bill. His Uncle Bill. He must have asked him to break the curse, but Bill wouldn't do that to his daughter's best friend purposefully. Potter must have tricked him.

I'm snapped from my thoughts when I realize how _close _Potter is. He's within half a meter now, what's he trying to do…? Then I connect the dots; he's trying to _seduce me_ so that I'll tell him my name. Stupid boy. They're all the same. "Potter," I say as he gets closer, closer, somehow closer until he's pulled my body flush against his. "Let _g_o. Now."

But he just sits there, looking into my eyes, getting closer, I can feel his arms tightening around my waist, he lowers his head, my mind's reeling. _I've never had my first kiss, _I think, _Potter can NOT steal my first dang kiss._

He's barely a centimeter away now. He was trying to kiss me. I had to do something, and _fast._

_SLAP!_

The sound rang through the train. He backed away, clearly gobsmacked that I would be so close to kissing the guy every girl at Hogwarts wanted and refuse. But I'm not one of those girls. I'm the only female in that whole blasted school that isn't related to him who doesn't want to snog his face off. I feel powerful; like I've risen above them or something ridiculous like that.

"What the hell was that for?" he screams.

_Kind of like a whining child, _I observe.

"I could ask you the same thing, James Sirius Potter." I reply, after searching my mind and thinking of no other witty comment.

And then, to my complete and utter surprise, he starts laughing. The brainless git was laughing at me. I suppose that I should've been used to it now; he'd been doing it for six years, but I still found myself wishing that he would stop, still hurting each time.

Angry, I shouted, "What are you going on about, you arrogant toe-rag?"

That stops him. But only for a moment. Just long enough for him to process what I had called him. Then he started to laugh again, harder then before. I only caught snippets of what he was saying,

"Grandma…called…Grandpa…same…love…" he was out of breath, and I was confused. Aw, well. I'd learned not to ask questions when it came to James Potter. That was usually the best thing to do.

So, I did something that was probably not the most Gryffindor thing to do. I ran. As fast and as far as I could. I was running from Potter; from all the things he'd said, all the things he'd done. I'd never cried for him before. I refused to; he simply was not worth it to me. No matter how hard it was, I never cried. I saw crying as a weakness, a human weakness. All I was was extreme emotions, but I hated crying.

Yet…my cheeks…were wet. Somehow. I didn't understand it. _Crying._ I was_ crying._ No. I would not.

I stood up and wiped my cheeks. This wasn't happening. It was just an illusion. I slowly walked out of the bathroom. Not. Happening. Then I realized: it was. This was real, this was human, this was _life_.

I ran to our compartment. I needed Rose. I needed Dominique. I needed Arwen. Urgently. So I ran; again. I had run more than ever that day; I had never run from my problems before.

Then I realized that the train was still moving. The sky was dark. I was missing...something. But I couldn't put my finger on it…

I bolted to our compartment.

"Joyce," Rose said, "we can't help you if you don't tell us what's wrong. Is it James?" I cringed at the name. She noticed. "So it is James. What did he do? When? Why didn't you come back after you left the compartment until now?" Her questions were flying at me so fast I couldn't answer them. So I just sat in the silence. I didn't quite know why I was so upset. The thought of his body so close to mine just made me feel…weird…and so I ran. What I was most confused about, though, was that it wasn't a _bad_ weird. It was an…unusual weird. Not necessarily bad. And that scared me. For a moment, a part of me (hopefully just the blindly hormonal part…) _wanted_ Potter to kiss me. _NO. _I thought, _This is not allowed. Not cool. Not _me. _I need to clear him out of my hear-head. Head. Not heart. Did I seriously just think _heart_? No. No. No. No. Bad Joyce. _

_ Well, you wouldn't mind it if he really liked you. _The surprising part of me said.

_Yes I would!_ The sensible part of me argued. _That would be simply horrid! James Sirius Potter is not capable of emotions! He's bullied me since I was 11! I DO NOT WISH HE LIKED ME! _

Yeah…I fought myself. You know you're jealous…

"Oh crap!" I exclaimed, getting my stuff together so I could run out of the compartment, "I forgot about the Head Girl Meeting!"

I ran down the hall faster than I'd ever ran before.

I opened the compartment door, looked in and saw James Potter.

He was smiling at me.

And wearing a shiny Head Boy badge.

**REVIEW! **


	4. Chapter 4: Potter, King of the Toe-Rags

**REVIEW! **

**Hello Lovelies :)**

**So. It's Rose and Snow again, hopefully you haven't been to sad and bored without us…;) There's not really anything going on here in Kalamazoo…(JK we don't live in Michigan) so we don't have much to tell you…**

**However. We just wanted to let you know that we feel really stupid about a mistake we made last chapter- we said that Joyce, Dom, Rose, and Arwen were already at the feast at one point-she wasn't. She was always in the train. That whole time. Sorry…. :)**

**Lastly: we feel SUPER bad, because Snow has been slacking and watching Doctor Who instead of writing, so this is way too late…sorry!**

**But Happy Hunting!**

**~ Rose and Snow**

Chapter Four

"Hello, _Joyce._" I heard Potter annoying voice say to me. "You missed the meeting. I _might_ fill you in later. If you're lucky."

"How'd you figure out my name Potter?" I said, frustrated that I had missed the meeting. And that I would have to talk to him later so I could ask him what went on in the meeting.

"It wasn't very difficult considering it's written on your Head Girl badge".

I remembered putting my Head Girl badge on right before I left the compartment. Good thing it wasn't on when Potter tried to…_kiss me._

"Well it took you long enough you dumb arse!"

Potter looked at me with an arrogant smirk on his stupidly perfect face and said "You didn't seem to be saying that in the corridor twenty minutes ago…" he waggled his eyebrows at me.

"In case you didn't notice Potter, I did mind." I smirked, "Oh and by the way, is your cheek still throbbing? I can get you an ice pack."

Alice Longbottom, a fifth year Gryffindor and one of Savannah's best friends said, "Wow, you guys…I don't know what's going on here, but the sexual tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife…'

Potter and I gaped wide eyed at Alice for a moment, as the rest of the compartment stared at us. I looked over at Potter just in time to see him run his fingers through his hair. That bugged me to no end. Potter went and sat down on the nearest bench and put his head in his hands.

Frustrated and annoyed I screamed in anger "Really Potter! You've just spent the last million years arguing with me and now you have nothing to say!?" I knew he was going to say something stupid because boys are stupid.

"Oh, well, I apologize, Joyce, I didn't know that you thought my intelligence was insufficient for sophisticated conversation!" oooh, he was _mad._ Now it was getting good!

"I would like to congratulate you, Potter. I didn't know you were capable of using so many long Big Boy words in the same time sequence." This was too easy.

"I…uh, dang it, Stevens!" then he did something that I sure was not expecting.

He…kissed me. I didn't think that he would try it again. But he did. Oh…crap…

I heard people in the compartment clapping. Why were they clapping?

Oh, yeah. Potter. And me. Kissing. Joy.

_Oh my gosh _I thought._ He's stealing my first kiss. How could he do that? Yet, it is strangely nice. But, I don't want it to be. He is stealing my first kiss, without permission. Not cool. _

I pulled away; I wasn't going to let him do that. I looked up at him and he smirked. What I wanted to do was run away and for the second time that day I had an overpowering urge to cry.

"Stevens?" he asked, his eyebrows raised, a smirk upon his face, his green eyes glittering.

I choked on my tears; there was no way I would let him get away with embarrassing me. I was Head Girl. This was _my_ year.

Then I lost it. Calm, cool, collected Joyce had just flown out the window.

"What the hell, Potter!" I screamed at him as I tried not to cry. I could tell that it was about to spill over, so I ran. Again. It seemed to be a pattern for me today…

So I ran through the train, until I found a miraculously empty compartment. And as I stepped in, the tears that I thought would come didn't. I just calmed down. _ It's ok, Joyce, _I told myself, _I won't let him hurt you._ I did tell you; warn you. There are two sides to me. And this one was more fight than flight.

I sat there until I was done getting ahold of myself. Then I thought back to Potter kissing me and about broke down again. He had held me so gently, caressed my cheek with his hand, holding me against him…it was good. No, better than good. It was _fantastic._ But he had still stolen my very first kiss.

And I was pissed.

I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, it was time to leave the train. We were at Hogwarts. It was time for the feast. Dominique, Rose, and Arwen would be worried. I'd been disappearing quite a lot as of late. As I hurried to the Great Hall, I saw everyone and everything that I was used to, just a couple unfamiliar first year faces. Lily Potter, Potter's younger sister (who is much more polite, kind, and fun to be around than he) saw me and waved. I enthusiastically waved back.

"Well, _that_ was exhausting," Rose said as we climbed the stairs to the Gryffindor tower.

"No crap, Rose," Arwen replied, "I hadn't thought it would be exhausting to climb 7 flights of ever-changing stairs after eating a crap load would be exhausting."

"Well sorry, Elfie, I was just stating a fact," Rose said irritably. She had recently started calling Arwen "Elfie," I think it had to do with her name and the book that it came from.

Arwen growled, "How. Many. Times, Rose? Do. NOT. Call. Me. Elfie."

"Desired reaction achieved!" I said, and we all started laughing…then:

"Miss Stevens." Headmistress Minerva McGonagall.

I got that feeling in my stomach, like I was going to be sick. I always felt like that whenever I was called into her office or she talked to me—like there was something that I had done wrong. But I was pretty sure that there wasn't anything wrong. "Yes, Headmistress?" I asked her…timidly.

"You and Mr. Potter have a dorm room separate from the other students. It's down this hallway." My eyes widened. There had always been rumors of a dorm room that the Heads were to share, but no one had ever talked about it before.

"See you, I guess…" I heard Rose say as I walked down the hallway and shot a small smile in their direction.

"It's right here," McGonagall said after a few minutes of strolling down the corridor in silence. I gaped. It was one of the most beautiful paintings that I had ever seen. It reminded me of the Burrow's garden: flowery, beautiful…all lavender and pink and orange. It was simply stunning, full of blue skies and green grasses. But there weren't any people in the painting. That was odd, specifically for a door… "When you say the password it will automatically open. Because there isn't a person in the painting, it leads kids away from it; no one would think that it would be a door or that it would have a room on the other side."

I could only stare. It was _brilliant._"Mmmhmm…" I said, the only sound I could make.

"I have to go find Mister Potter now…he's probably with his ridiculous friends…" I heard McGonagall say, "so, I need you to choose a password right now; I'll let him know."

I knew _exactly_ what my password was going to be. Nodding, I said: "The new password is 'James Potter is the King of the Ugly Toe-Rags of the Town of Pratville.'" The door opened.

"Excellent choice, Miss Stevens," she told me, "I knew there was a reason that I let you pick the password. Your dormitory is to the left. I'll be off now." I could've sworn that I saw McGonagall _wink_ at me.

The Heads Dorms were magnificent. The walls were draped in tapestries of reds and golds, telling stories of brave knights and beautiful princesses. I walked up the spiral staircase to my room, hoping that it was just as beautiful.

It was even more so.

The walls were a bright yellow, decorated with aqua accents. My favorite color combination. My usual Gryffindor themed four poster bed was replaced with a bed covered in a blue bedspread covered in one saying, written in the color yellow. It read: _"The answer is yes: yes, he is worth it." _I soon found out that it was different every day.

Later, as I was reading, I heard Potter enter the dorm room. He wasn't very quiet, either.

I thought that he wouldn't be able to get to me; that the stairs would turn into a slide like in the Gryffindor Common Room.

I was wrong.

He came bursting in.

"Joyce. I want to be friends."

My mouth dropped to the floor.


	5. Chapter 5: Mint Gum

**Haha! We're so awesome that we're posting TWO chapters in ONE day! What now!?**

**~Rose and Snow**

Chapter Five

"You…WHAT?" I screamed at him. Ok, so _maybe_ I was overreacting. Just a little bit. Maybe…

"I just want to be friends, Joyce. Is that so bad? Can't we just try?"

"Ugh….fine, Potter. Just because you asked nicely." I gave in.

"Haha! I knew I could win you over! I mean, come on, everyone knows you've got the hots for me."

My jaw dropped. "Nevermind, Potter. We don't need to be friends. Get out."

"Kidding, kidding!" he said, "I mean, you've made it quite clear you don't like me."

"Promise you won't make crap jokes like that." I said.

"I promise." He said, "Promise that you'll call me James."

I sighed, "I promise."

**FIRST YEAR**

"Hey! Joyce!" Dominique was calling me, "d'you want some gum?" I look at the gum she offers me, praying that it's watermelon or strawberry flavored. Nope. Spearmint.

"Thanks, but…" I said, trying to think of how I could word it so she would still want to be my friends, "I don't like mint gum. Like, at all…"

Her beautiful blue eyes widened. "Really?" I nodded. "Oh, ok! That'll be helpful to know in the future." She smiled.

Dom never offered me mint gum again. No one did. Until James Potter.

**PRESENT (SEVENTH YEAR)**

The next morning, I waved timidly at James as he entered the Charms room. He slid into the seat next to me, and Fred said: "Wow, mate, you really weren't joking! You really got her to tolerate you!"

I rolled my eyes as Fred handed James three Galleons.

Soon, Dom and Arwen joined us, Arwen next to Fred, (he'd insisted) and Dominique on my other side.

Halfway through the lesson, Pot-James turned to me and said: "Joyce. Do you want any gum?" He was offering me Spearmint.

Arwen started to say: "Actually, she doesn't li-"

But I cut her off: "Yeah, sure, James."

Arwen and Dominique's eyebrows rose sky-high. Then Dom smirked at me and said: "Slumber party Friday. And you are spilling _everything._"

I don't know why I took the gum from James. I just did. Maybe it was so I could feel his hand brush mine as he handed me a piece.

As I put the stick of gum into my mouth, I realized that I didn't mind the odd cool sensation I got from chewing it. I rather enjoyed it.

Yesterday, that would not have been the case. Something had changed.

For the rest of the day, I had this strong craving for mint. And James. And James's mint gum. At dinner, I ate the house elves' mint cookies. Anything that was minty, I devoured.

My craving was satisfied.

For about three hours.

Later that night, I snuck out of me and James's dorm room and went down to the kitchens. I ate mint ice cream and some more of their cookies. I ate anything that I could find that would give me that crazy cold sensation and make me feel like James was there. I don't know where that came from. But it was just there.

About an hour after curfew I left the kitchens, thanking the elves and carrying boxes of Mint Marsupials and Peppermint Imps. And of course, several packages of spearmint gum.

As I walked back to the Common Room I shared only with James, I started humming an old Taylor Swift song from when I was younger…

_All I know, since 18 hours ago, is green eyes, and freckles, and your smile in the back of my mind making me feel like, I just want to know you better know you better, know you better now. _

I don't know why it came to my mind, but it did, and it somehow lead me back to Potter, to his green eyes that were almost as bright as the gum I now had in my bag, to the way his face lit up whenever he talked about Quidditch... and then I stopped, because I wasn't going to allow myself to end up fancying him somehow.

I was zoned out when they said: "What are you doing out here, Joyce?"

I turned around, arms full of minty goodies.

Arwen.

Rose.

Dominique.

They saw what was in my arms.

"We need to talk, Joyce."

Crap.

**Review because you're loving Joyce's new mint obsession. ;)**


	6. Chapter 6: Conundrum

**A/N: I am a horrid person. SO SO SO SO sorry it took me so long! **

**Please still love me :) **

**so, I decided that I would try flipping it to James's POV for parts of it. I'll let you know whenever I do… :)**

**As always, it's NOT mine!**

Chapter Six

"Um…" I said, trying to sound as innocent as possible, my packages shifting awkwardly in my arms. "about what?"

"You know what, Joyce Charlotte Stevens. You are eating minty things. You _never_ eat minty things. Whatsoever. Does it have something to do with a certain Potter boy?" Darn. Dominique had me there. I was totally screwed.

I threw my hands up in the air. "I don't know, Dominique! I honestly don't know!" My voice sounded desperate, sad and lost.

Which I guess…I guess I was. I was so confused with that stupid James Potter that I couldn't even breathe anymore. But it didn't mean anything. "But it doesn't mean_ anything_." I told them, sincerity in my voice.

Arwen raised an eyebrow at me, and Rose let out an exasperated sound, almost like a sigh. "That is such BS, Joyce, and you know it!" Rose screamed at me. Great. If Rose was swearing, crap just got _serious. _

"But I—," I started, only to be cut off by:

"What's BS, Stevens?" Potter. His voice, arrogant and cocky, reached my ears. I turned around, and my heart subconsciously skipped a beat. There he was, soaking wet, (I hadn't even noticed it was raining) Head Boy badge pinned to his chest, broomstick in hand. He looked like someone from some muggle TV show. I contained my gasp, and kept my jaw from dropping.

"None of your business, Potter," I say harshly, my voice cold as he walks over to me. I hold my breath unconsciously as he gets so close I can smell his minty breath. I pretend not to enjoy it, remembering that Rose, Dom, and Arwen are here. Fred's there too, egging on Arwen, getting her riled up. ("You're wet, Weasley" Arwen says, as Fred waggles his eyebrows at her and wraps his arms around her, getting her soaking as well and making her squeal)

He takes one of my thin mint packages. "Hey!" I protest. He laughs at me, before unwrapping them and taking a bite out of one, sticking the rest of it in my mouth.

Then he walks away.

Mmmmm….mint.

-.-

James POV

I ran my fingers through my thick, messy black hair as I put my broom away and sat on my bed. Stevens had looked so afraid as I had approached her. Was I really that intimidating? I was only trying to get close to her so I could see those secret green and gold flecks in her bright blue eyes. I'd always found myself inexplicably drawn to those eyes of hers. I can't tell you what possessed me to kiss her the other night—Joyce was nothing special. Except for her eyes. I lov—liked her eyes. Yeah. Liked.

I found my thoughts always leading back to her as I walked to go get Fred. I was going crazy. It was time for a diversion.

"OI! FRED!" I yelled into the Common Room, "COME HERE!" It was time for an emergency meeting. In my Head's Dorm.

Once he came down, and we got back to my room, I said, "Mate, I have a problem."

"I'm listening," He said.

"Well, it's…it's Stevens, actually."

"Damn! Rose was right!" he said.

"What are you on about, Fred?" I said, exasperated.

He quickly sobered. "Um…nothing…" was all he said.

"Fred, tell me. Under the Marauder Law, I command you to tell me." I said, my face stern.

"Really, James?" Fred said, annoyed, "you have to pull the whole Marauder thing?"

I looked at him sterner.

"Ugh! Fine. Rose said, and I quote: 'it's only a matter of time before Joyce and James get together and have like 10 babies. I call godmother!'" Fred said, mocking Rose as he talked.

My jaw dropped. Me and Joyce? _That's about as likely as Hagrid dressing up as a ballerina and singing a Celine Dion song._

"Well, that would be quite peculiar." Fred said.

Oh crap. I said that out loud…

"Yes, you did say that out loud, smart one." Fred said, and I looked up to see his knowing smirk.

I rolled my eyes at him and stuck out my tongue, my childish way of saying that I was annoyed. His eyebrows rose as he continued to get ready for bed. Quidditch practice had been brutal that night. I was Captain, but we had to get ready for our match with the Slytherins that we had on Saturday. Unfortunately, that meant that I had to pit my team's Seeker against Albus. I didn't know if little Arianna Winters, Third year as she was, could beat him. Albus was my brother, but I still hoped that we would crush the Slytherin house in the game. We had done one too many drills, and I was aching everywhere. _Too much!_ I could feel my bruises forming in my muscles as I got into my bed and tried my hardest to fall asleep.

My mother swore that I suffered from insomnia, and I had half to a mind to believe her; I just could not fall asleep. It could take me hours, because my brain couldn't shut down. I kept thinking about that paper that I needed to write for Arithmancy, and that I had a test that I would have to BS my way through.

My father thought it was a problem that I was so good making things up and getting good grades. It drove my Aunt Hermione and Rose mad. It was hilarious: I never studied, and never in my life had I ever received lover than an E in any class…except for History of Magic, where I got an A once. But who pays attention in a class taught by a ghost? Oh yeah. Rose.

When I finally drifted off, my last thought was of Joyce's eyes…

-.-

"OI!" I heard Fred yell at me, "Wake up, you lazy sack! Class starts in 15 minutes!"

"Crap!" I muttered, "crap, crap, crap, crap!" Running around my room, I pulled on socks and random articles of clothing until I was wearing all of the clothing that was necessary for the Hogwarts uniform.

I ran all the way to the Great Hall, laughing in my head as all of the girls I'm not related to look at me, mouths gaping open. Except for Joyce. She doesn't even acknowledge my existence, just staring at her cereal like someone killed her father or something.

But then I noticed that Rose, Dominique and Arwen weren't with her. Why not? It was probably some stupid reason, my mom had told me that teenage girls were always fighting about things that they thought were important, and that I should "just go with it."

I didn't have time to talk to her, so I just ran to my regular seat and ate some eggs faster than probably would be considered polite, and then ran off to Charms. My day was a blur of running and stopping, doing something else, and then running off in the other direction to do some other unnecessary task. But there was one thing that was constant: it seemed that Joyce was everywhere that day. She was in the hallway, she was in the Great Hall, and somehow, in almost all of my classes.

But she was always alone.

I made sure to remember to talk to her later, but it just never happened; Fred would pull me away to play a game of wizard chess or Gobstones somewhere, then Arwen would need Transfiguration help, Rose wanted my notes for the Charms lesson she missed, (probably with Scorpious,) and Dominique wanted my opinion on her newest boyfriend. When it was finished and no one on the face of Hogwarts or the planet could possibly need anything from me, I found myself in the Gryffindor Common Room. And there was no Joyce in sight.

I flew up the stairs to the Girl's dormitories and knocked on the door. "Hey," I said when Arwen opened the door, "where's Joyce?"

Her face darkened. Coldly, she said: "She's not going to be staying with us tonight." Then she slammed the door in my face.

What was going on?


	7. Chapter 7: Strength Only When NOT Needed

**A/N: Special shout out to **_**Soccerisawesome19,**_** who not only has a fantastic taste in sports, but has reviewed every single chapter so far.**

**You make my heart sing.**

**Love, **

**Snow **

Chapter Seven

JOYCE

James was long gone when I finally got back to the Gryffindor Common Room that was no longer my own, but thoughts of him would not leave my mind.

So I was quite deep in thought when Rose and Dominique started to question me about the mint obsession, and James, and so many other things that I didn't really care about. I was arguing, asking them why on earth it was their business, and what their problems were. Then, "WILL EVERYBODY PLEASE SHUT UP!" Arwen screamed into their dorm. I hadn't wanted to go to bed yet, so I was planning on hanging out with them.

We all looked at her, annoyed. "Well, I think that if she likes James, she just needs to tell us," Rose said, a matter-of-fact look on her face. Dom nodded, affirming that she agreed. _They're right, _I thought to myself, _they're your best friends. You need to tell them what's going on…but what _is_ going on?_ I couldn't even answer myself, so how was I supposed to explain it to them? So I just stayed silent as they bickered.

"But Rose," Arwen consoled, "it's _Joyce's_ choice. Not yours. You have absolutely no control over her, and telling her that you can "see right through her" is only going to ruin her trust in you and make her not want to tell you anything in the future."

Rose didn't have anything to say to that.

I would never tell anyone, but Arwen had always been my favorite. She was straight and to the point but not rude, insanely perceptive at knowing when people wanted to be left alone, and fiercely protective of her friends. Whenever she was ticked, I usually was too, but if I wasn't I could tell if she was, because her brilliantly green eyes would darken. I was lucky enough to be included in that group of people.

As much as I loved Rose, there were times when she could be horrid to me. I was loud and obnoxious, rude and witty, and Rose didn't like it one bit. She was very quick to point out my faults, but that was one of _her_ only faults. Other than that, she seemed to be perfect; perfect grades, flawless skin, beautiful, long flowing red hair and deep chocolate eyes; the boys couldn't seem to get enough of her, she'd never had troubles with them.

Dominique wasn't exactly passive, but she wasn't as passionate as Arwen, Rose, and I were. Just like Rose, she had boys knocking down her door (the reason Arwen didn't was because Fred had called dibs on her third year and they were all too afraid) and perfect grades, but she didn't flaunt them as much. I loved her because she was so sweet, so kind, so genuine… it only made me feel worse about lying to her.

I sighed. "Guys," I said, "I'm sorry, but there's nothing going on. I just haven't tried mint since I was 8 years old, and so I thought I still hated it." I wasn't lying; I hadn't eaten anything minty since age 8, but I didn't think that James didn't have something to do with it, because I knew he did. I was just omitting certain truths. I would tell Arwen later: she's the only one that would understand.

They looked suspicious but nodded, and I felt worse, if that was possible. They trusted me and I was totally lying to them. I couldn't handle the guilt so I told them that I would see them later and ignored Arwen's raised eyebrow as I walked out of the room.

-.-

Sharla Rosier was a Slytherin that no one messed with. She was strikingly beautiful, with raven hair and tan skin she got from her mother. She was exotic and beautiful on the outside, but ugly and vicious inside. If you saw her, you ran for your life. I would feel better about saying that if she had any friends, but she didn't. None of her housemates tolerated her; they thought that she was obnoxious and a disgrace to their house.

Which she was.

But that was beside the point.

The problem was when she came up to me as I walked to the Library in order to get away from Arwen, Dom, and Rose. "Hey Stevens," she said in her sickly sweet voice, all ponies and roses. "I was looking for you." Great.

"Yeah, Rosier?" I said.

"I was just in a meeting with Headmistress McGonagall. She asked me to tell you to go speak with her."

"Alright…thanks, Rosier. I'll go right away…" I said, one eyebrow raised, as I headed off to McGonagall's office guarded by gargoyles.

"Elder wand," I said once I reached the entrance. The gargoyles moved away to reveal the staircase that many students knew existed. "Headmistress? I was asked to see you." Looking around, I saw in confusion that my two siblings attending Hogwarts, Savannah and Reese, where both there. They both muttered a greeting and I waved back, but their faces were grim.

Minerva McGonagall's lips pursed. "I have some dreadful news, I'm afraid, Miss Stevens."

My mind raced as I braced for impact. She had somehow figured out that I had been out after curfew the other night, and she was taking back my Head Girl status. My mother would be so displeased.

"Your father's mother passed away last night, Joyce. She was going after a group of rogue ex-death eaters with some of the members of the Order of the Phoenix and was hit with the Killing Curse," McGonagall said.

And with that, my entire world shattered into a million fragments.

-.-

Soonafter, on that seemingly never ending night, I lay in the bed of my Head Girl Dorm, tears streaming down my cheeks, I realized that the saying on my quilt that had confused me that morning finally made sense.

_"Unnecessary Strength in unnecessary times, and nothing but weakness at a time when strength is prized more than the finest jewel."_

I didn't understand how it was supposed to be inspirational or encouraging, because all it did was make me cry more, but I was grateful that _someone_, or at least some _thing_ understood how I was feeling and was there to offer some fragile form of support.

My father's mother had been my lifeline throughout my existence. She was brilliant, kind, compassionate, creative, and one of my favorite people in the entire world. Her name was Audrey, and she had always been strikingly beautiful, even though aging. She had been my role model since infancy, it seemed, and imagining a life without her… the thought tore me to pieces.

McGonagall had told me that my parents had wanted to have the funeral as soon as possible, because Grandma had always wanted no one to grieve over her.

"Remember my goodness," she had always said when asked about death.

Because of this, her funeral was set for the next day. She had wanted me to speak, so as I frantically tried to write my speech, I periodically wiped away the tears that I seemed to have in infinite supply.

As soon as I was happy with what I had written, I ran to James's room, borrowed the invisibility cloak that Rose had told me he had in third year, (he was obliviously asleep) and ran all the way to their dorms, where I collapsed into another bout of tears and told them everything that had happened.

They all had known my grandmother almost as well as I had, and we all collapsed into a mound of tears and sat there until Arwen stood up and left, always the strong one, only to come back with about three and a half pounds of Honeyduke's Chocolate and some butterbeers.

We sat there for the rest of the night.

**REVIEWING MAKES ME WRITE FASTER! :)**


	8. Chapter 8: Unexpected Needs Met

**A/N: Oh my gosh I'm so sorry I haven't written lately! I have been so insanely busy! Thanks for staying with me, guys:D**

**-Snow**

Chapter Eight

"I came up from underneath,

Fractured moonlight on the sea,

Reflections still look the same to me,

As before I went under."

—Florence + The Machine "Never Let Me Go"

I was so lost. I had nowhere to go where I would be understood. The fact that my grandmother was dead stung. It hit me full on, in the chest, and I was so broken that I almost couldn't feel it. Almost.

Everyone I knew had been trying to help me, to ease the dull ache, but it just hadn't been working.

I was on Head Girl rounds. Potter was around here somewhere, I knew, because he was doing them as well.

I had ditched him a long time ago.

Wandering the halls, I tried to think of somewhere that I could be alone, but by the time I decided on the Astronomy tower, I had already ventured to the opposite side of the castle. Sighing, I pulled out the muggle iPod my dad bought me that I'd charmed to work inside Hogwarts, and started the playlist I'd created for a situation just like this one: "Sad."

It played songs that enhanced the feeling, in a deep thoughtful way, and helped me to feel like I wasn't so alone.

The funeral was tomorrow.

I sighed and pulled at my wavy, crazy, frizzy hair that was far from pretty, angry and bitter that my grandmother had been taken. There was no where for me to go. I wasn't about to go drink away my sorrows; I'd grown up in a household where we were taught that alcohol was never the answer. I couldn't talk to Rose or Dominique about it; they'd just try to fix the problem. I loved them, but that was all they would do. Fix things. Because most of my life needed to be fixed. I was rude to everyone and judgemental and I felt useless. So I couldn't talk to either of them.

Normally, I could, however, talk to Arwen. But she was serving a detention for hexing Fred Weasley, so I didn't think that that was going to work. I continued on my way to the tower, singing along as Florence and the Machine came on, making me cry.

"Never let me go, never let me go..."

I thought of my grandma. The next thing I knew I was singing, something I did often. The lyrics flowed out of my mouth, and my heart broke as the bridge came: "And I'm not giving up, I'm just giving in..."

"You have a beautiful voice," a voice from the darkness said.

I gasped and turned around, only to be met by a tired and impressed looking James Potter. "Thank you..." I said, trying not to blush. The castle was dark, and we were standing in a strip of moonlight. He looked flawlessly attractive, hair mussed, eyes darkened. I didn't know what to say to him. Finally he broke the silence.

"Rose told me you lost your grandma," he stated. I felt the tears well in my eyes. Human weakness. I didn't want to cry in front of him so I tried in vain to wipe the tears from my eyes.

"I don't want your pity, James. Leave me alone." Embarrassed and annoyed, I turned away and ran, feeling like one of those girls in the cheesy low-budget romance movies everyone hated. I didn't even pretend to be able to hold in the tears that I seemed to be able to create in excessive amounts. James caught up with me quickly, trying to grab a hold of my wrist as I desperately screamed at my legs to run faster. Finally he caught me and wrapped his arms tightly around me.

He smelled better than I had expected.

Like old leather and gasoline. I had always loved the smell of gasoline, and I melted into his embrace. I just needed comfort. I let out a painful sob, embarrassed that James Potter, of all people, was the only one that I could turn to in my sorrow.

We sat there for a while, beyond words, beyond tears. And then he began to sing Florence and the Machine. The same song that I had been singing when he found me. He sang it from start to finish, his deep, calming voice putting me to sleep.

For the first time since McGonagall had told me the horrid news, I was at peace.

I welcomed the darkness as I fell asleep in James Sirius Potter's arms.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

James P.O.V

The sunlight woke me up. It was streaming through the window above where we were on the ground. Joyce was still asleep, and when I saw her face I smiled. She looked so angelic when she slept. I didn't want to stir her. But I knew that people would be up soon, and though we had seemingly avoided being caught by prefects, I didn't want her to be rudely awoken by one of my over-zealous ex-girlfriends.

Having decided that she would need bringing back to the Head's Dorm, I picked up her small frame and carried her to the Dorm, saying the ridiculous password that she'd chosen and walking inside. She was so tiny in my arms, and I just wanted to comfort her. Stay with her all day long. And then I remembered that her Grandma's funeral was today.

She would have to go through that whole situation, and I knew for a fact that there would be tons of people there. Her Grandma had been a very important member of the Order, and there wasn't anyone who didn't love her. Even Molly Weasley had to admit that her German Chocolate cake was the best that you'd ever taste, and I was sure there would be some at the funeral.

I contemplated going, but decided against it, because I didn't think that Joyce would want me there.


	9. Chapter 9: The Funeral of Audrey Stevens

**A/N: Hello, darlings. Long time, no see. You can basically blame the fact that I am currently swamped with end of term work, if you'd like. That and a recent Sherlock obsession I've been nurturing. If you guys have Netflix, watch that show. It is magical. And it made me cry. Granted, that's not very difficult to do, but still. :)**

**Disclaimer: Nope. Sorry. I'll never be a J.K. Rowling...**

**~Snow White**

**Chapter Nine**

_"I'd rather die dreaming believing in something better than in me."_

- Dido "Go Dreaming"

Chapter Nine

Joyce POV

When I awoke, on the day of my grandmother's funeral, I was in my bed. I distinctly remembered falling asleep in warm arms, a minty breath tickling my ear. Or was that all a dream? The goosebumps I felt growing on my skin told me that no, it was not a dream.

I had slept with James Potter. The innocent kind of sleeping, without all of the modern day connotations of something intimate.

It was still gross, though.

But a part of me thought it wasn't so gross. That part of me...secretly had enjoyed it. At least James had been sensible enough to bring me back upstairs. I really didn't need to have a conversation about it with Arwen, Rose, or Dominique. Yawning, I stretched and got out of bed, jumping into the shower and dreading the funeral I knew was coming today.

I had been disregarding my appearance the last couple days, exhausted mentally and physically, and it was time to actually do my hair. So when I stepped out of the shower, I curled it into soft ringlets. My hair had always been naturally curly, so it wasn't that difficult. I put on the black dress my mother had purchased for me. It had sleeves until my elbows, and a square neckline. The top, until about three inches under my bust, was form fitting and almost like a corset. Then the dress fanned out, a sturdier layer covered by a flowing skirt of black lace. I felt beautiful. Like a mournful bird...trapped in a never-ending sadness. Liking the phrase, I wrote it down on a spare notebook lying around.

Then I grabbed my wand and walked out of my dorm. It was now or never.

I was as ready as I'd ever be.

…

A part of me was not-so-secretly hoping that my friends would show up to the funeral, but the sensible part of me reasoned that they would be unable to get out of classes or something, so I tried not to hope. It wasn't very hard.

That's a lie. It was excruciatingly difficult.

Sighing all the way, I walked to the Headmistress's office and took the Floo to the funeral.

...

"Hello, Mrs. Stevens, I am your grandmother's personal mortician." Said a man with a grey comb-over and eyes that were tired of being sympathetic. He looked as though he had never truly tasted the pain of another's death, and I found myself automatically disliking the man. So I just nodded as he walked me through the procedure and told me all that I had to do.

I sat down in my chair and cradled my head in my hands until I heard a voice say: "Oh Joyce, sweetie. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." And then my mom's arms were around me and we were both hugging and I felt okay. Almost. My mom sat me up and held my hands in hers, looking me in the eye. "You know what your grandma would tell you right now, don't you, Joyce?" She said.

"Yes. I do," I said, "she'd say, 'Joyce, there are two kinds of things in this life: Hot Dangs and Oh Wells. This is just a Hot Dang. Buck up and face the music, my little princess. I love you to the moon and back.' And then she would give me a fig biscuit and we'd sew a new dress."

Saying it out loud somehow made me feel better. I heard my grandma's voice in my head frequently, repeating that life was just Hot Dangs and Oh Wells. She loved me. She wouldn't want me to cry. She'd want me to smile and remember afternoons making cookies with her, sewing a brand new skirt for a party the next day, reading stories about fairies...a childhood that extended until my seventh year.

But now my childhood was over and it was time to grow up. So I hugged my mother and followed her into the room the funeral was to be held in.

The man who was my grandmother's "personal mortician" signaled for me to come sit by the pulpit. I would be speaking soon.

I nervously began picking at my nails, peeling off the purple polish, (grandma's favorite color) waiting to begin. Right before the ceremony was about to start, five figures slipped into the hall. Rose, Dominique, Arwen, Fred, and...James. He looked at me, emotion in his eyes for a woman he'd never met.

The funeral officially started, and I stood up, put my notes on the pulpit, and began to speak. "Audrey Joyce Stevens was a role model to all in her life..."

...

The moment the funeral ended, I found myself being hugged by five people at once. "Your speech was beautiful, darling!" Dominique gushed, holding me at arm's length.

James just watched me.

"Thanks for coming, guys. You don't know what this means for me." I got choked up, begging myself not to cry. Because grandma wouldn't want that. Grandma would want me to be happy and have fun with my friends.

Suddenly Ginny and Harry Potter were there, and I was enveloped by red hair. "Oh Joyce!" Ginny cooed, "I'm so sorry! Harry knew your grandmum, and I wish I had known her too. She sounded like a great woman. I'm sure she would've loved your speech."

I smiled. Ginny Potter always seemed to know how to brighten any day.

James patted his mother on the back and lead her in a different direction, knowing that the woman was loving, but would cause more tears if she stayed much longer. I smiled. It was a sad, defeated sort of smile, but a smile nonetheless. James and I made eye contact, and Rose, Dom, Arwen, and Fred had the tact to slowly back away. I could feel their eyes on the back of my neck, and James probably could too, but that didn't stop him from engulfing me in a warm embrace. I fought the urge to sob softly into his shoulder. "Hey," he soothed, "I know it's hard. But we're British. We get back up, pour another cup of tea, and move on." He was being so cheesy that it would be hard not to smile.

"Thanks for coming, James...you won't ever understand how much it means to me that you did." I hoped I didn't sound clingy and desperate, but at this rate, he probably used those two words to describe my every particle. He beamed at me and ruffled his hair.

"Your dress is pretty, Joyce," he told me.

I looked down to see what it was I was wearing. "Oh, thank you James." He lead me over to the food, and we sat down, talking about nothing in particular, just enjoying each other's company. I didn't even notice that Rose and Dominique were flirting with two of my American cousins and that Fred and Arwen were sitting awfully close to one another in the corner of the room. I didn't notice that they were all stealing glances at James and me. I didn't notice; I was too wrapped up in James Sirius Potter and his dazzling smile.

"Dazzling," I thought out loud.

"I'm sorry, what?" James asked me.

I'm sure I turned bright red. I'd couldn't believe I'd voiced my thoughts. "Nothing..." I muttered underneath my breath. I thought he had heard me though, because he smirked.

"Oh I'm sure it was nothing," was all he said.

...

A few hours later, when all the sorry-for-your-losses had been said and all the well-wishers had left, I was alone. In the empty chapel, I felt at peace. My grandma wanted all the best for me...and I loved her for it. I had come to terms with her passing.

I turned to leave when I heard a voice echoing through the hall. The voice of a murderer.

"Aw yes. How is Audrey's favorite grandchild these days?"

I turned around, coming face-to-face with Lucius Malfoy.


	10. Chapter 10: Anti-Progress

**A/N: So I've finally finished proof reading this and am excited to share it with you all. Review!**

**—Snow Whitexx**

Chapter Ten

_"She is bright lights_

_And cityscapes..._

_She is long nights _

_And cupcakes. _

_And she'll take all you've ever had,_

_But I'm gonna love you,_

_Till you stop looking back..."_

_—Sara Barellis, "Bright Lights and Cityscapes"_

Joyce POV

"Lucius. I was beginning to wonder when you'd show up," I said, "what do you want?" This man was vermin; a waste of space and life.

Lucius laughed, the cruel, melodic noise ringing through the empty church. I wished then that I had gone home with the rest of my family ten minutes ago instead of promising to apparate home soon. "Oh my beautiful little flower. You know, you're grandmother's last wish, before she was killed, of course, was to know you were safe. She said to me: 'Tell Joyce it's a Hot Dang.' Now, would you care to tell me what she could possibly mean by that?"

"Oh give me a break, Malfoy," I said, "you don't seriously think she left me information, do you? That she and I have a code of some sort and she's telling me all the things I need to know? You really are pathetic, you ferret. Get out of here before you tarnish my grandmother's memory more than you already have." I felt the tears welling up. I really did have an endless supply.

"Then I see no problem," Lucius was angry at my defiance; he was going to tear my psyche apart before he left, "in you telling me what the hell your mad as a bat grandmother was trying to tell you."

I miraculously kept my cool. I refused to let this...this disease of a man ruin my memory of my grandmother. "It was a lesson she taught me as a child, you arrogant, narcissistic dumbass."

I turned on the spot and disapparated into my bedroom at my house, crying myself to sleep. I really needed to stop crying so often.

...

The next morning, I told my mother everything about Lucius Malfoy. She gave me a hi-five when I told her I'd called him a dumbass, and told me she was proud of how strong and like my grandmother I was. I felt worthwhile in that moment.

I still had the rest of the weekend before I was expected back at Hogwarts, so I decided to just rest. The whole James thing was exhausting, and I couldn't piece together how I felt. Saying I liked him felt too middle schooler, but claiming that what we had was "love" seemed far too pathetic and cliché. I wasn't a cliché person—at least, I liked to think so— so the idea of being in love in my seventh year was a pathetic and ridiculous notion.

The boy just needed to stop being so damn confusing. I had sent him an owl, but he never responded. I was hurt. I craved his protection in a weird way, because I knew I hadn't seen the last of Scorpius Malfoy's grandfather. He was one of the wizards my grandma had been tracking when she died.

And we weren't in a war anymore. I knew that. James's dad was supposed to have fixed that permanently. I guessed that there had just been lots of problems with Death Eaters that hadn't been solved yet. That was the only logical answer.

...

I went back to Hogwarts early Sunday evening with a heavy heart. None of my friends had contacted me, and though I was mostly at peace with my grandmother's death, I couldn't fill the aching chasm in my heart. I just needed a hug. And my subconscious specifically wanted the hug to come from James, but refused to admit it. I didn't know what I was supposed to do about the fact that I was slowly teetering over the edge of being okay.

I was walking around the castle in search of a place to be alone when I ran into James Potter next. It was midnight, and I was just searching aimlessly, trying to find a place to belong. "Hey Joyous," he said softly as he took my hand.

"Joyous, James?" I said, "Really? Joyous? Oh, you can do better than that!"

"I like it." He was adamant. I sighed contently as I took my hand from his.

James POV

When Joyce took her hand out of mine I felt strangely saddened at the loss of physical contact. I needed her with me, and I hated the feeling. "So..." I started, "what are you doing up this late?"

"Just walking," she replied, choking on her words. I knew she was upset, so I scooped her up in my arms, holding her tight.

"You'll be fine, Joyce. I'll always be there for you. I promise." She looked at me with her big blue eyes and I had to stop myself from kissing her. It would ruin the moment.

And our newly found friendship.

We talked for a few more minutes before she walked off, saying she was going to go back to bed.

As she walked away, hips swaying, I knew I had to do something drastic to forget about Joyce. Otherwise...my reputation of being a bad boy would jump off a cliff...especially when the inevitable rejection came.

I went back to the Gryffindor Common Room to find someone to do the trick and saw Eliza Tucker, a girl with curly black hair and blue eyes.

And she may or may not have reminded me of Joyce.

But that was beside the point.

Joyce POV

I walked into the Great Hall Monday morning to find James snogging Eliza Tucker as she sat in his lap. All around me, people were cheering. I felt light-headed.

"You shouldn't care, Joyce," I mumbled underneath my breath, "he's not yours and you certainly have no claim on him."

So why did I care? Why did it matter so much to me? The nitwit could do whatever he wanted. I walked calmly past them and sat by Rose, who immediately started talking. "You okay, Joyce? I know James is being a jerk, just ignore it. Hogsmeade is this weekend. He's got to have a date or his reputation crumbles."

I nodded, but Rose's justification wasn't enough for me. I couldn't handle it, I couldn't be in the same room as the two "love birds." I ate my eggs quicker than I ever had before and causally but urgently walked...or maybe, ran, out of the Hall. And Minerva McGonagall's knowing sympathetic smile didn't help.

James didn't speak to me for the next three days, preferring Tucker's company to mine. The only fun I'd had the whole week was when Arwen told me she'd found a fitting rhyme for Eliza's last name. Eliza didn't seem to appreciate it for some reason.

Late Wednesday evening, I wandered back into my Head's Common Room, planning to sit by the fire and read some sappy romance novel with plenty of the required angst and men in breeches. I had just sat down to an old favorite of my mother's when I read a passage of text that almost made me cry.

The main character was distraught because her love interest had ran off with another woman. She was talking with one of her friends, who told her that denial was getting her nowhere and that she needed to admit her feelings.

I felt tears welling up in my eyes.

"I'm not okay." I admitted out loud.

"I know, Joyce." I turned around in a dramatic movie star actress fashion, hair fanning out in all directions, only to watch Ja—Potter emerge out of shadow into the otherwise empty Head's Common Room.

My breath hitched. "Potter," I breathed, "why didn't you write me back? Why have you been avoiding me? I thought...I thought you would be there for me, of all people." I felt the anger rising in me.

"I was busy, is all," he replied, all charm and confidence. With a sense of horror, I realized that he was trying to smooth it all over by charming his way into my heart.

"Just stop it!" I knew I was being ridiculous, but I didn't care. The boy needed to be told that what he was doing was wrong. "You can't just waltz in here pretending like you always cared! That you were there for me, that you replied to my owls, that you ever give a damn! Because you don't, James, do you? All you care about is what other people can do for you! And I was foolish enough, I was naïve enough to believe you actually cared about me! I fell for your trap."

His face twisted up into something I imagined was meant to be his apologetic face. "Joyce, you don't understand, I—"

"You what, Potter? Saw Eliza prancing around in her skirt that may as well be used as knickers and just thought, 'I'd really like to be friends with that girl'?That's all? Thats bull. I'm sure that all you ever wanted to do was get into her skirt and as far away from the emotionally deranged Joyce Stevens as you possibly could!"

"Will you stop pretending that the world revolves around you, Joyce?" My anger was contagious, apparently. I saw the fire in his usually calm hazel eyes. "The thing with Liz—"

("Oh she's 'Liz' now, is she?")

"It's nothing! It's just one weekend! And I don't see why you're so upset about it anyway. It's not like you care! It's not like you kissed me back on that train two weeks ago! You don't own me, Joyce Stevens, and don't you ever forget it!"

The tears were flowing freely down my face now. "Well I'm sorry if the fact that I feel abandoned offends you, Potter," I spoke with a chaotic calm, a voice soft and silky in defeat. "I apologize for everything you believe I have done wrong. I am sorry for taking you seriously when you said you'd be there for me. I'm sorry I thought I could trust you. But most of all, I am sorry that I ever agreed to be your friend."

I turned on my heel and walked up the stairs, ignoring him as he called my name. I was done. I was done covering for him, I was done being the girl that he wanted me to be. We had only been friends for two weeks, and my life was crumbling around me. I would never be the same again.


	11. Chapter 11: Relinquished Hold

**A/N: I'm sorry, guys. I have no excuse, really. I've just forgotten to upload. But I can promise you that next Sunday (or maybe sooner, depending on how many reviews I get *hint hint*) I will update. Love you all!**

**—Snow xx**

**Chapter Eleven**

_"I have photographs and memories _

_Of the times when you weren't on my mind_

_And I was alone_

_I have poetry and drawings of my life,_

_When you weren't on my side_

_And I didn't know just what is love..."_

_—Jason Reeves, "Photographs & Memories."_

JAMES POV

Joyce calmly sat as far away from me as possible. It had been a week since we had had our big falling out, and everyone was quietly suffering as Joyce slowly cut herself off from everyone in our group of friends. She barely laughed at Fred's jokes anymore, hardly talked to Rose, Dom, and Arwen, and completely refused to admit my existence. It was torture. It seemed all of Hogwarts was feeling the pain, because the whole school seemed in a trance. The Head Boy and Head Girl weren't talking with each other, even when they had to. Whenever Joyce and I went on rounds, all she would do was stick those blasted earbuds in her ears and tune out. She didn't even look at me. Just started doing rounds with or without me. Twice I was an hour late and she didn't even bat an eyelash. She had simply stopped being her.

And it killed me to see her that way.

...

I walked through the hallway, winking at girls and flirting shamelessly on my way back to my dorm. I had just had the worst potions period of my existence: the teacher had paired me off with Joyce in an attempt to unify us once more, but all that Joyce did was push me aside and finish the potion. We got an O. And she didn't even reply when I said thank you.

I raked my fingers through my hair for the millionth time, wondering why I ever took Eliza Tucker out. It was a huge mistake, but Joyce wouldn't accept my apology. I was deteriorating. She walked into my life after I had bullied her for six years, forgiving, and I had driven her away.

But we had gotten too close. She got to me. She opened up my chest, decided some things needed to change, and switched everything up. I was so different now, and we had only been friends for a couple of weeks before I screwed everything up. But I didn't know how to fix it.

...

It was one more week of Joyce's feigning indifference before she moved out of the Head Dorms. I had no idea where she was. She would just come to classes and disappear promptly afterwards. Rose told me she wasn't staying with them. Her Ravenclaw brother said she wasn't with him, and her fifth year Gryffindor sister Savannah guiltily refused to talk to me. I begged. And it was a very unattractive beg. "Look, Savannah, I'm sorry I didn't know your name until last year. But this is really important to me. Where is your sister?"

Savannah looked at me with worry for her elder sister in her eyes. "I can't tell you. You hurt my sister. You broke her. I won't let you hurt her anymore." She walked away.

Sighing, I sat down on one of the couches and put my head in my hands. It was hopeless. I had ruined everything, right on schedule.

JOYCE POV

I looked both ways down the corridor before slipping into the Room of Requirement. I had been staying there for about a month because I simply couldn't be near James much longer. It was too painful to look at him. But even though I avoided him at all costs, he was always on my mind. Forever circulating around. I tried my hardest; reading books about banishing things from your thought streams using Lilgimency, disbanding whole strings of memories, even options as extreme as going into a coma where you were unable to think independent thoughts, but none of it made sense and it was far too advanced magic.

So I just cut myself off from all my friends. Lived by myself in the Room of Requirement. Savannah would stay with me during the weekends, but other than that I was alone; just me, my music, and my homework. I liked the solitude.

But the only problem was Potter. I could always feel him watching me when we were on rounds: the only time I ever had to see him. I relished the evenings when he didn't show up.

"Probably just out with some girl," I said out loud one evening two and a half months into my chosen solitude as I was walking by my lonesome around the castle. I was fully used to being alone, and though my old friends who didn't know me well enough to know where I would be sleeping were always trying to talk to me, I was pretty much peaceful. James had just stopped coming to rounds all together, and they had become a really good time for me to reflect. "I know what you did, like a boy of summer gives his first kiss..." I began singing Vanessa Carlton as I walked down the hallway, my only joy coming from being able to dance around, "now we're back, we're back in San Francisco, and you tell me I am home..."

I had never been one of those girls who would claim music was their only purpose in life; their calling; their entire sustenance. I liked music because it made me feel less alone; there were people who knew exactly how I was feeling. They knew betrayal. They knew loss. They knew love. They knew joy. And it was beautiful. It was something unique and so skilled at shaping society that it was almost the true leader of mankind. And I knew so; I just had never claimed to be in some sort of musical cult.

I turned the corner when I heard the faint sound of...kissing. I rolled my eyes and set out on the adventure of finding the late-night snoggers. Snickering, I located the broom closet and wrenched it open, putting on my best Head Girl face.

When my eyes adjusted and the two people snogging split apart, wide-eyed and afraid, I saw something that I was afraid of seeing.

It was Potter. Potter and some blonde Ravenclaw who was quite disheveled at that point. My breath caught. "Detention for both of you. A week for whoever you are," I said, gesturing to the Ravenclaw who looked very offended that I didn't know her (heaven forbid), "and two for you, Potter. You're supposed to be the example to all the other students and you have failed miserably. Not that I'm surprised."

He and the blonde bimbo ignored me and walked off together, off to find a more hidden place, no doubt. They were far away when I finally let myself collapse against the wall, forgetting about proper etiquette as I pulled my skirted legs up to my chest. I didn't cry. Just sat there and thought. I hadn't been able to cry since Potter and I fought. I was more machine than woman at this point; just going through the motions.

But I couldn't change the fact that when I saw it was him, a part of me began to internally sob.

...

I woke again in the corridor three hours later. It took me a moment to realize where I was, but once I did, the heart ache set in.

And then the anger did. Who was Potter to skive off rounds and go snog some idiot? Who was Potter to leave me so broken?

He had no right.

I got up off the ground and dusted off some imaginary lint from my clothes. I sashayed back to the Room of Requirement, hoping that being positive in action would help me to ignore the fact that I was hurting.

My place in the RoR was great. I snuck down to the kitchens every once and a while to stock the kitchen I had created in the Room, complete with muggle cookbooks (I had learned how to cook in Muggle Studies my third year). I had also kept my same bedspread with the quotes on it, because it made me feel connected with something.

Ever since I had moved in, it had read: "bitterness never was happiness," which must have been based off something else, because to me it sounded familiar.

I got under my covers and thought about what was keeping me at Hogwarts, anyway. I could talk to McGonagall about getting an at-home tutor from the school for the rest of the year and leaving. Never having to come back. But there was a part of me that knew I couldn't. If I did, I'd lose James. And I didn't want to lose him.

I had done a really good job of losing him lately, but just knowing that he was there gave me a comfort that I couldn't deny.

But after seeing James with whoever the Ravenclaw girl was, I wasn't so sure I wanted his protection. All I knew was that I needed my friends back.

I needed Dominique's kindness and subtle hints.

I needed Rose's constructive criticism and fiery temper.

I needed Arwen's good advice and dependability.

I needed Fred's humor and ease.

I needed needed them all. All but James. I was convinced that I didn't need him. He was just a short term thing. He was too passionate and angry and coarse. Too cocky and attractive and intelligent.

But I needed the rest of my friends, so that night I moved back into my Head's Dorm.

JAMES POV

Once Joyce began to ignore me I decided to go back to who I was before her: Hogwarts's bad boy. The guy who had a different girlfriend each week; who was never consistent with emotions...all the things Joyce had hated about me that I had changed for her sake.

But now she was gone and I felt no guilt.

Maryanne was another distraction. Somehow we had ended up tangled together in the broom closet snogging. I knew when I heard footsteps that Joyce was coming, and I could've pulled the invisibility cloak over the two of us, but I wanted her to see that it was us. I wanted her to feel the hurt I felt when she walked away from our friendship. I wanted her to get angry. I wanted the passionate emotions back.

I almost laughed when she disregarded Maryanne's name (I didn't know the girl's last name, so I guess I couldn't blame Joyce,) and the disappointment in Joyce's eyes as she gave me two weeks detention was satisfactory.

I lead Maryanne off into the darkness, desperately trying to forget the dead look in Joyce's eyes as her light flickered and went out.

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	12. Chapter 12: Breakable Girls & Boys

**A/N: as promised, another chapter of ****_The Secrets No One Tells Me. _****I love you all, faithful readers. **

**And I'm sorry if you hate this chapter. **

**Just not sorry enough to change anything. *EVIL LAUGHTER***

**—Snow xx**

Chapter Twelve

_"And now we pass,  
And just like glass,  
I see through you,  
You see through me like I'm not there..."  
—Ingrid Michaelson, "Glass"_

JOYCE POV  
I moved all my stuff back into my Head Dorm and walked down to the Gryffindor Commons. I had to talk to Dominique, Rose, and Arwen about what had happened and explain. I was nervous, but I knew the password, so I slipped in unnoticed, telling a teacher I was doing late night rounds as they passed me.  
I knocked on the door to the dormitory and looked at my shoes. I felt ashamed and horrid for how I had treated them, ignoring them for almost two months without a valid reason. "Godric!" I heard Dominique exclaim, "Joyce's back!" I heard gasps from inside the dorms and slight sobbing. They pulled me inside. "Joyce I'm so sorry I've been so horrible to you!" Rose exclaimed, tears running down her cheeks.  
I was confused. It hasn't been any of the girls's faults, so why were they so upset? Then it clicked: I hadn't even told them why I had left. They thought they were in the wrong.  
"Oh you guys," I said, choking up, "I'm sorry I couldn't talk to you. I just...James and I got into this huge fight, and I was so upset, and talking to you guys just made me think of him more. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me!" They looked at me puzzled for a moment before beaming at me and hugging me tightly. We bad-mouthed James for a while and talked about school as we caught up.  
It was the best night I had had in a long time. It reminded me of the night my grandma died: full of chocolate, butterbeer, crying, and reminiscing. I had missed these days. We eventually fell asleep in a giant heap on the floor.  
I felt wanted for the first time in at least a month.

JAMES POV  
When I woke up the next morning, I was not expecting to walk out of the shower in nothing but a towel and run into Joyce. Literally. We slammed into each other, and when she finally looked up at me, I didn't want to leave. I hadn't looked into those beautiful blue orbs in far too long. But her cheeks reddened at my almost naked form and she brushed past me, causing all the skin she'd touched to tingle.  
Breakfast was uneventful. I sat near Joyce, who for some reason was sitting with Rose and Dom again. She looked happy, and I felt a stab of pain in my chest when I realized that I had been what had made her UNhappy in the first place. I should have been used to it. I made everyone unhappy.  
She caught my eye from across the table, and her gaze hardened. I had thought...I had thought that maybe after this morning, when she blushed instead of scowled, that we would be okay.  
My vague prophesy of forgiveness was inaccurate, it seemed.  
What was I supposed to do about Joyce? She didn't even tell me what was wrong! Ok, so she did tell me that I was self centered and didn't give a damn about anyone else, but...surely she was making it up. Right?  
Right? My subconscious was smirking at me and telling me that Joyce had been totally right. I was being a stubborn ass, but I wasn't about to be the one to say sorry.  
So I smirked at her as I walked out of breakfast as her eyes hardened against me once more; denying me entry into her life again.

JOYCE POV  
The next week went by as many of my weeks at Hogwarts had in the past. Potter got a new girlfriend, Hogwarts had good food, and my friends were there with me always. I had stopped trying to remember all the names of his conquests, but Potter's girlfriend this week had long black hair that was straight as a pin and hazel eyes.  
I nearly laughed at the fact that they could've been twins.  
It was comical, really.  
I could've said something to him...and I probably should've, but...I wasn't feeling as bold as I had in previous years. I couldn't help but wish that I could be one of those girlfriends...and then I remembered that he just left them in the end.  
I had been right to deny his kiss in the Hogwarts Express those months ago. He was only going to snog me and drop me. And I wanted something more real than that.  
"Hey, Joyce," a voice said. I looked up and saw Rory Boot, a Ravenclaw in my year. He had pale brown hair that sat flat on his head, (unlike someone) and eyes that were the color of lime juice—clear and pale, with a green tint. Those eyes were stunning. There was no denying it.  
"Oh, hey, Rory!" I said, trying not to sound too eager. I had had a large crush on him in fifth and sixth year. "What's up?"  
"I was wondering if you wanted to study with me tomorrow night. I was having trouble with some Charms work, and...I thought maybe you could help me," Rory said, a sheepish smile on his handsome face.  
I smiled, "I would love to help you, Rory. What time?"  
We talked for a while longer, and by the time the conversation had ended, we had scheduled a perfect time for our study session.  
Did I dare say...study date?

…

The next afternoon was gray with the early December snow. I woke up cold, anticipation thick in the air. The previous night the girls had gushed over Rory and talked about his eyes and tried to decide what I should wear. In the end I was clad in a pale blue cardigan and white capris. By the time it was time to go to the library, I was flushed with anticipation and could barely control my happiness. The only thing bugging me was that at dinner, Rose had told James where I was going afterward, and he looked murderous. Apparently I wasn't allowed to be happy. Arrogant sod.  
When I walked into the old Hogwarts library, breathing in the scent of old parchment and dried ink, I heard my voice being called. "Joyce! Over here!" Rory said. I smiled and walked over to him.

...

"Well, that about covers it," I said, closing my Charms textbook and leaning back in my chair, stretching.  
"Thanks again, Joyce. You don't know how much it means to me that you would come." I looked into those clear green eyes and couldn't help but see James's hazel eyes instead.  
"No prob, Rory. I'm happy to help anytime you—" Rory cut off my words with his mouth, kissing me slowly and deliberately. I couldn't help but compare his kiss to Potter's.  
"Will you go to Hogsmeade with me?" Rory asked, and I nodded.  
He leaned in again and I let him kiss me, all the while unconsciously imagining James in his place.

JAMES  
"Joyce Stevens and James Potter," our NEWT potions professor said again, assigning us into a deadly pair. I sighed, exasperated, and took my seat next to her, seeing that she had no intention of moving. She looked beautiful, like she always did, hair braided loosely to the side as strands of her curly dark brown hair escaped to frame her face. I sounded like a girl when I talked about her.  
"Joyce you have to talk to me," I said, grabbing the necessary ingredients for the Amortecia we were brewing.  
She turned her stormy blue eyes towards me, but they were the only things that displayed emotion. "I would rather not, Potter," she spat the last name at me as though it were a swear word.  
"Please," I felt pathetic pleading, but I didn't know what else to do.  
Now she was surprised. Apparently she hasn't expected me to be able to humble myself enough to be kind. She was probably justified. "I have nothing to say to you, Potter." She sounded broken. She walked up to the professor and asked to change partners, ignoring the professor's upset look. She was reassigned to work with Rory Boot. She sat next to him, a small smile on her face, but I saw the year trailing down her cheek. And Rory did too.  
He lifted her chin up with his index finger, their mouths inches apart. Her smile broadened and she lit up again, hugging Rory and starting on the potion. My new partner was some Ravenclaw who did the potion perfectly, I assumed. I was too busy watching Rory and Joyce to pay any attention to her.  
It irked me to no end that Rory seemed so close to her. I knew that they had gone on a study date recently, but...I didn't know that it was serious. Was it serious?

...

Towards the end of class, the professor called the class up to smell the potion and tell the class what we smelled. Alicia Jordan, a chaser on the Quidditch team, smelled broom polish, homemade chocolate chip cookies, and lime. Fred smelled peaches and cream, (Joyce's eyes widened for some reason) rain, and strawberry ice cream. Rory smelled old books, blackberry perfume, and fresh cut grass. Arwen smelled something she described as "a musty cologne," (which sounded like Fred's cologne to me) orange zest, and dogs.  
But it was Joyce I was waiting for. She was right before me, and as she sniffed the perfume, she closed her eyes and inhaled the scent happily. "Mint..." She muttered, "and...old leather, and chlorine." She stood there for a moment more before reluctantly pulling away. I watched her for a moment as her eyes widened, and I could see the wheels in her head tuning. Was that how Rory smelt to her?  
I knew it was my turn, so I stepped up to the cauldron. All I smelled was Joyce. Joyce, Joyce, Joyce. I tried to decide how to explain it, but it was difficult...I kept thinking but the only word that came out of my mouth was: "Joyce."  
Everyone looked at me, startled. "I mean," I said, searching for a way to cover myself. "I smelled what Joyce did. Chlorine, mint, and um...leather."  
I took another whiff, and was able to differentiate the scents more: blackberry perfume, like Rory, I realized with contempt, mint, (I thought of the Girl Scout cookie that I had stolen from her) and her apple shampoo. I was way over my head.  
Joyce caught my eye as I exited the classroom, raising her eyebrow. I ignored her.  
I did a really good job of ignoring her all day  
...and then I walked out of the Great Hall after dinner and saw Joyce and Rory fiercely snogging in the corridor.  
I angrily stalked back into my room and sat on my bed.  
What was I supposed to do?

**_Hey, it's my story,_**

**_I hope you like me!_**

**_And I get lonely!_**

**_So review maybe? _**

**...I'm pretty proud of that, actually. Came up with the spoof all on my own. I'm such a big girl. Tie my own sandals and everything;)**

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	13. Chapter 13: When Conversation Runs Dry

**A/N: I know, I know, I'm a week late. I've been busy, I'm sorry. Not to mention that this chapter was really hard to write. I'm also sorry to say that I am going to be away all week, so I doubt you'll get other chapter before Wednesday. But I'll try :)**

**Oh yeah. Longest chapter ever, guys. I'm pretty proud of myself. **

**I love you ALL! Don't forget to review!**

**—Snow xx **

**Chapter Thirteen**

_"Don't touch me I'm shaking!  
Can you hear me breaking?  
Somehow I'm still standing!  
Well maybe I'm crazy,  
But this is really hard for me!  
Can I get some sympathy?_

No more lies for me,  
Inject me with the honesty shot."  
—Karmina, "Sympathy"

JOYCE POV  
I was alone with Arwen working on homework in the afternoon when I realized that for the first time in months, I was happy.  
I was grateful I was with my friends again. I had a great boyfriend who was always there for me and constantly making me happy. I was free to stop being so lonely and sad...now I just needed to apologize to James. Could I?  
He had hurt me so many times...I wasn't sure. But I needed him. I needed James, I needed to be his friend; a part of his life. And if I had to watch him fall in love with bimbo after bimbo...I could deal with it. Because it really shouldn't mean anything to me. I had a boyfriend. Who wasn't James.  
I just needed him.  
I knew so. So why didn't I want to be the one to apologize? "Because you still think he's in the wrong," Arwen supplied.  
I looked up. "Did I...say that out loud, by chance?" I asked, cheeks turning red.  
"Oh there's no 'by chance' about it," Arwen said, "you totally voiced your thoughts out loud."  
I grimaced. "Sorry."  
"It okay," she replied, "but I think it's time you told me what really happened."  
I told Arwen everything that had happened, starting with James ignoring my letters and then Eliza Tucker coming into the picture ad ruining my possible chances with James, and then ending with our horrendous fight. I told her about his weird behavior in Potions and about his random anger towards Rory. Was I not allowed to be happy? Like a good friend, Arwen gasped at all the right places and was always armed with an aptly-worded insult about Elizabeth Tucker. Arwen always had been the witty one. Once I finally finished, Arwen advised me to just apologize, even if I thought he wouldn't accept it. "It will leave the impression that you still want to be friends," she explained.  
I couldn't believe how long I had gone without Arwen's brilliant advice. It was a miracle I survived. But after she started asking me about Rory, I felt like I needed to change the subject. I had a few questions for her, and I didn't like talking about Rory. I had pined after him for years, and suddenly knowing he liked me back changed a lot of things I had thought were constant.  
"So..." I said, one eyebrow raised, "how are things with a certain red-headed young man of our acquaintance?"  
She sighed. "Nothing new. No developments whatsoever." She seemed disappointed.  
"Do you wish that wasn't the case?" I asked her.  
"I don't know, Joyce, but...I like Fred very much...I've only just realized it and I've no idea what to do."  
I nodded.  
It was high time I had a conversation with Fred Weasley pertaining to his intentions when it came to Arwen Lance.

JAMES POV  
Later in the evening, as I was talking to Fred, there was a knock on the door to Fred's dormitory. I opened the door, surprise visible on my face. "Joyce?" She just stood there, looking at me for a moment before asking me a question.  
"Is Fred here? I need to talk to him...it's important." I raised my eyebrow at her. What did she want to talk to Fred about? He couldn't possibly be more interesting than I was. I mean, I was James Sirius Potter. It didn't get much more fascinating than that!  
"Yeah, I'm here Joyce," I heard Fred answer behind me, "do you want to come in?"  
Joyce looked skeptical. "Um..." She said, "I think that this conversation would be best just between the two of us." My eyebrows shot up my forehead. Did she like Fred? She had a boyfriend... and she hadn't shown any interest in him before! Had I missed something? If she broke up with Rory, (I felt a glimmer of hope at the idea,) Joyce was supposed to like me! I had secretly called dibs. Granted, they may not have been valid because we were fighting, she hated my every atom, and she had a stupid Ravenclaw for a boyfriend, but I had called dibs regardless, and if she liked Fred, I would've probably thrown a huge fit and shredded a couple pillows.  
"Okay, I'll go get him," I said awkwardly, heading for inside. Suddenly, Joyce reached out and grabbed my arm.  
"James..." she said, looking at me, then down at the ground.  
"What is it, Joyous?" I said the words softly, without thinking, and I immediately regretted the words. She flinched.  
We stood there for a minute as she fought herself internally.  
"Nothing..." She finally sighed, letting go of my arm, "just...go get Fred, will you?" I nodded and walked into the seventh year boy's dorm, my skin burning where she had touched me.  
But that couldn't be happening. Because only girls did that whole sentimental "if they touch me I'll never wash the spot thing," right?  
Yeah. I was right. "Oi, you useless lump," I told Fred as he lounged on his bed, "Joyce wants to talk to you 'alone,' apparently." Fred looked as quizzical as I had, but said he'd be back soon an walked out the door to meet his fate with Joyce.  
My Joyce. "You can't keep pretending she's your possession," I told myself and the empty dormitory. I was way in over my head with this girl! What was I supposed to do about the fact that she was mad? What had I done in the first place?  
Oh yeah. Eliza Tucker. I regretted taking that girl to Hogsmeade more every passing day. I wished that I had hadn't taken out anyone this year; no snogging, no dates. It wasn't even necessarily about Joyce; I just wanted to be respected. I didn't want to be known as the playboy Potter who messes around with a girl and then leaves her. But... I also didn't want to be a playboy because of Joyce. That girl...she was trouble. Those big blue eyes that made my palms sweat, her biting attitude that was full of humor, her laugh. The sound of her voice; like caramel on a hot summer's day. She was beautiful and perfect and everything I wanted.  
But her hatred for me was too much. And she liked Rory. Stupid, "perfect" Rory and his clear green eyes.  
For the millionth time, I wished I had been lucky like Al and gotten my father's eyes. Mine were hazel and boring. I just got stuck with unruly hair that never did anything I wanted it to. I knew that things with Joyce were bad, but...what was I supposed to do? We couldn't be honest with each other anymore, and I didn't know what I was supposed to do.  
Fred came in fifteen minutes later and refused to tell me what he and Joyce had talked about.  
When had Fred started keeping secrets from me?

JOYCE  
I crossed my arms and smirked as Weasley looked at me, frightened. "We need to have a chat, Weasley," I said, and he rolled eyes.  
"I could've guessed that much," he said, his voice notifying me that he was bored of the conversation already.  
I paused for a moment. How was I supposed to tell him that I thought he liked my best friend? Should I just come straight out of it? Or tread lightly?  
I decided that being direct would have to do. "Fred, do you like Arwen?" His eyes widened, and his complexion paled.  
"Um..." he looked as though he was debating whether or not to tell me. It was five minutes before he spoke. "I...I'm not sure how to tell her." He looked into my eyes, his clear blue ones desperate and worried. "She's pushed herself so far from me lately...I don't know what to do about it. Joyce, you've gotta help me."  
I looked at him, shoulders slumped, head hung. He was sincere. And confused. He had to be; Fred Weasley didn't do "emotions." He just didn't. He never had, he had always been indifferent. Only in a relationship for the snogging and never forming deep enough roots to stay very long. And yet here he was, begging for my help. How could I deny him the happiness that I so craved?  
Craved? What was I talking about? I had a great boyfriend! Rory was fantastic! He was kind and funny and gentlemanly. He was...  
He was mine. He wasn't going to disappear or go snog girls in broom closets behind my back or do something else so totally and utterly James-like. Because Rory and James were so different...like polar opposites. I was happy. I had to be.  
I pushed the thoughts out of my head. Fred and Arwen needed me now, and I didn't have time to think about myself. "What do you want me to do, Fred?"  
"I need her alone."  
I nodded. "Consider it done."

...

It wasn't until eleven at night, as I was lying in my bed hopelessly trying to fall asleep, that I allowed James back into my head. Thoughts of him swirled and painted themselves across my dorm room walls, the colors mixing with others in an emotional symphony. Dark and light fought for dominance until all the colors faded back into pastels, yet every bit as stunning as the previous portrait.  
The boy confused me. Half the time, we fought, the other half we were civil...I had spent far too much time cowering in fear of James Potter, and I was done.  
I couldn't speak to him. I had tried earlier before he got Fred, but I couldn't bring myself to say those two words.  
"I'm sorry," I whispered aloud to my bedroom instead. At least something could hear me.

JAMES  
The day after Joyce and Fred has their chat about something I wasn't allowed to know about.  
Fred wasn't speaking. It was driving me insane. "Mate," I said for seemingly the millionth time, "what did you and Joyce talk about?"  
"Things," was the only reply I received. I was going to explode if he didn't tell me.  
"Fred," anger was coursing through my veins as I spoke the words, "why won't you tell me?"  
"It doesn't concern you, James," Fred said, with a sense of finality in his voice. He had never lied to me before. Fred and I had always been completely honest with each other. And now here came Joyce, changing my life like she always did.  
"Fine then," I told Fred, unintentional anger for him obvious in my voice, "I guess I'll be going then." I stormed out of his room and walked viciously to my Heads Dorm, where I proceeded to yell Joyce's ridiculous password to the painting and slam the portrait behind me.  
"Stevens!" I yelled harshly.  
"Can it, Potter!" she yelled back, annoyed that I had disrupted whatever she was doing in her room.  
"Stevens!" I called again, "we need to have a little chat!"  
"Fine!" she grunted angrily.  
Five minutes later she sauntered down the staircase, hand on hip. "What d'you want?"  
"To know why the hell Fred won't tell me about your little 'chat,'" I said, biting out the words.  
She shrugged her shoulders and scowled at me, somehow still managing to look stunningly beautiful. Wait, what? I didn't have time to think that through before words were coming out of her mouth. "It's his to tell you. Not mine. I'm just helping him with something."  
"Enlighten me," I was getting angrier as the time passed, and Joyce was just standing there passively.  
"It's none of your business."  
"He's my best friend."  
"Obviously you're not as close as you thought," she said calmly and coldly, raising an arched eyebrow at me.  
I growled. "It could be worse, I suppose. I could have a friend who suddenly left and didn't talk to me for two months."  
My words broke her cold resolve. She swiftly thrust herself towards me, brilliant blue eyes flashing in anger as she jabbed a finger into my chest. "You don't know anything about me, Potter. Don't pretend for a second that you do."  
"Well maybe if you'd let me in, I would!" Our faces were getting closer, noses close to touching.  
"Why would anyone want to talk to you about anything, you slimy, arrogant, moronic—"  
But she never finished her sentence. My lips were on hers, a vicious, angry kiss, that tore through my entire being. She quickly snaked her arms around my neck and started playing absently with my hair as one of my hands tangled into hers, the other wrapping around her waist and pulling her closer.  
And then all the sudden, I heard a loud _SMACK!_ As her palm connected with my cheek. By the time the stars disappeared and I could see, Joyce was long gone, her bedroom door closed.


End file.
